Promises
by Hattie1997
Summary: She may have been a Gryffindor to my Slytherin, or a Muggleborn to my Pureblood, or even a know-it-all to my relaxed, but I still loved her with my whole heart. If my parents knew it would most likely give them a heart-attack. If my friends knew they would accuse her of slipping me a love potion. If she knew... Oneshot
1. Promises

I closed my eyes, barely refraining from pounding him to a pulp, my whole body shaking from the effort. She was giggling, laughing freely at whatever the useless Weasel had told her this time. His large, meaty hand was trapping itself in one of her curls as she brought it to his nose, sniffing slightly. I wrinkled my nose at the disgusting display and turned away, huffing.

"Marcus. Hey, Marcus. Flint."

That was her voice. Her sweet, beautiful voice. Yes, she was two years younger than me (a fifth year to my seventh) but that didn't stop the way I felt about her, the way my heart stuttered uncontrollably whenever she was near, the way I couldn't stop the foolish grin from breaking out on my face whenever I saw her. It also didn't stop her from dating the pathetic Weasel.

"Marcus, wait."

I could see her in the corner of my eyes, rushing towards me, dark curls flying around her flushed cheeks. Her gold-tinted, chocolate eyes were burning into the side of my head as I made my way closer to the edge of the Black Lake, smiling sadly at my reflection. She may have been a Gryffindor to my Slytherin, or a Muggleborn to my Pureblood, or even a know-it-all to my relaxed, but I still loved her with my whole heart. If my parents knew it would most likely give them a heart-attack. If my friends knew they would accuse her of slipping me a love potion. If she knew...

"What's wrong?"

She had reached me now, her small, dainty hand clutching my sleeve, pulling me to a stop and turning me to face her. Her wide, brown eyes were hurt and I hated seeing that expression on her face, and her red lips were pouting.

"Were you avoiding me?"

"Of course not," I told her, my voice gruff and annoyed. I turned once more to face the lake.

"I think you are, and besides, Ron said..."

"I DON'T CARE WHAT THE DAMN WEASEL SAID," I suddenly roared at her. "I DON'T CARE IF YOU WANT TO DATE HIM, BECAUSE YOU MEAN NOTHING TO ME. YOU'RE ONLY A FILTHY, KNOW-IT-ALL, MUDBLOOD."

Before I could even realise the implication of my words, she was running away from me, back towards the castle, her shoulders shaking with the tale-tell signs of sobs. I tried to call out to her but my throat was blocked and I could only watch helplessly as she ran away from me for what I was sure was the final time.

Just before she disappeared into the school, she turned back to me, her loud voice racing across the almost-bare grounds. "I came down here to tell you that I love you, but I guess the sentiment is not returned."

And then she was gone, making me feel even more empty and confused than before I had met her. I turned back to the lake, staring unseeingly across the glass-like expanse. The chilling wind didn't even faze me any more, the grassy smell didn't affect me, and the cheerful chatter coming from the Great Hall no longer made me long to enter there with her on my arm. Because she was gone. And she wasn't coming back.

**XxX**

"Marcus."

The snake-like voice made me turn. I faced the Forbidden Forest for a moment in silence before making my solitary way inside. The trees seemed to whisper to each other, laughing at me, the stupid Slytherin who lost the one he loved in much the same way as Severus Snape did so long ago. I could hear them ahead of me, laughing and chattering excitedly to each other, baying for blood and death and destruction. And I found that I didn't care. Without her I just didn't care.

_He _was standing at their centre, his bony arms crossed, his robes hanging off his seemingly-frail frame. His snake-like nostrils flared, testing the air, as I approached, but he made no other indication that he knew I was there. A moment later a skeletal finger beckoned me forward, and I moved, breathing heavily, scared, as his fingers closed around my wrist, pinching harshly. A wand - Lucius Malfoy's wand - was pressed into his hand and a moment later was pressed onto my arm, green light blaring from the tip.

White, agonising, blinding pain.

Then darkness.

Then...nothing.

I sat up blearily, blinking slightly, banishing the stars from my vision. _He _was still standing in front of me, a sadistic half-smirk curling the corners of his thin lips. Still, he didn't speak, but raised his wand high above his head, more emerald light spilling from it, creating his mark in the sky above us.

The Dark Mark.

"And now we attack."

His voice was soft, melodious, but cold and unforgiving. He didn't stare at any of us as he left, allowing us to follow behind him, ready to bring destruction onto the Castle before us. And I could see her. She was standing there as if waiting for me, her cocoa hair flying wildly behind her as it did the moment she left, her chocolate eyes bright, ready.

She cast the first spell, and chaos reigned.

"Avada Kedavra."

I ducked the apple-green light, racing from the safety of the trees in order to find her. I needed to find her. As if she knew I was looking she dissapeared back into the Castle, and I followed. We ran further into the partly-destroyed school until the only sounds were our pounding footsteps; the screams and shouts, the thuds and bumps, the yells and howls, were all but forgotten, a mere distant memory.

And then she stopped.

She wasn't moving, her back to me, as if she knew I wouldn't hurt her. And I wouldn't. I never could.

"You promised me you wouldn't become one of them."

Her voice broke, a sob ripping out, her shoulders shaking, but still she didn't turn.

"And you promised you would never leave me."

"You promised never to call me a Mudblood," she screamed, finally turning, "But you did."

"I know," I replied, and there was nothing else to say, because what _could _I say? _Oh, I'm sorry I called you the most degradatory name I could think of? I was only jealous, don't take it personally. I was jealous of you and Weasley. _I couldn't say any of that, and so I stayed silent, waiting for her to leave me for what would definitely be the final time. But she didn't.

"Will you forgive me?"

She walked forward.

"Do you love me?"

"Unconditionally."

She let out a sadistic laugh.

"Will you promise to never called me that again?"

"Definitely."

She was walking closer still.

"Do you promise never to be embarrassed about falling for me?"

"Of course."

Her face was right in front of mine, and she smiled.

"Then I guess there's nothing to forgive."

And she kissed me.

We shared one kiss, the first of many, before finally moving out to fight, wands at the ready.

Together.


	2. Announcement

**I'm so sorry that this isn't actually an update but I recently discovered Fictionpress and I have started a story that I think you'll like. If you fancy it could you please check it out. My username is Hattie97 and it is called Our Little Secret. Here is a preview. Thanks.**

The blistering sun beat down from the heavens, sending golden light over the small, homely buildings below. The sky was a clear, forget-me-not blue with dozens of birds soaring overhead, and the ground was dusty underfoot. Shops lined each side of the street, doors open wide to admit any manner of customers who wanted to enter, and voices mingled cheerfully from inside each one. There wasn't a frown to be seen: each child was giggling and squealing, each teenager was laughing and playful, and each adult was elated and merry. The streets were abnormally crowded seeing as it was a blissful summers day, but he couldn't shake the feeling that something was about to go horribly wrong.

His hair was plastered to his forehead above eyes that were wide and frightened. A light breeze blew past him, making him shiver in the suddenly cool air. He was dressed casually so as not to stand out in the busy street, with only a pair of jeans, a plain white t-shirt that clung to his body and simple, white trainers. Even though he didn't usually bite his lip, now his teeth were wrenching it apart in his nervousness as he moved onto the pavement next to Waterstones.

He pretended to be like any other boy - rowdy, impolite and arrogant - but he knew he wasn't succeeding. Instead, he was quiet and withdrawn, the horrors that he'd seen and been witness to clouding his eyes and mind.

He continued to trudge along, trying to keep his head low so that he would not be recognizable to any of _their_ spies who might be watching. His eyes kept flicking this way and that in an effort to see if he had been spotted, but so far nothing was out of the ordinary.

There was a brilliant booming noise before the store he'd been hurrying past started to shake on its foundations. Terrified screams sounding from inside as people shoved each other in their rush to escape the collapsing building. In the next second a cloud of dust rose up as the shop finally came to rest, debris flying everywhere. Screams and sirens mixed in the air as the firemen arrived to what had obviously not been an accident. He had no doubt about who had caused it.

A shout to his left ripped him from his thoughts and he turned to see a shaking finger pointed at him. The man it belonged to had a cropped head of ginger hair and sparkling, sapphire-blue eyes that were burning with what looked like a mixture of hatred and fear.

"There."

That was all it took; every eye turned in his direction, curiosity and pain showing in every face. More sirens rent the air, signaling that the police were on their way. He found his breath coming out in sharp gasps as he stared straight into the eyes of his accuser.

"He did it."

Those final words jolted him from his state of shock and he glanced around in horror as three police cars drew up, the inhabitants all jumping out. By then all of the injured had been taken away and he dearly hoped that there were no dead, but knowing them, there probably would be.

A small hand fitted itself into his palm but before he could turn to look at the culprit, he was being dragged away from the crime-scene. He tried to look back once but his companion just tugged impatiently on his arm and he was forced to continue.

Whoever it was took him down a series of narrowly twisting streets until she reached a certain house. They fumbled for a moment with the key to the door before pushing it open and stumbling into the sitting room beyond.

It was only then that he got a good look at his 'kidnapper'. She was about a head shorter than him and dressed in form-fitting jeans and a blue, Jack Wills hoodie with the hood pulled up to shield her face from view. Even so he could see a hint of brown hair peeping through.

"Who are you?" he snapped rudely, not willing to take any chances even though she didn't look like she could hurt a fly.

Instead of replying, she carefully removed the hood and allowed it to fall down her back. Cinnamon colored curls cascaded to her waist and her cocoa-brown eyes regarded him solemnly. She had a cute, button nose and full, rouge lips. A slight smile curled the corners of her mouth as she finally spoke.

"My name is Aisling Ava Sophia Lowe but you can call me Ash."


End file.
